Serena wrote:Next: What is a popular sport/game event in your concountry?

The Maxna enjoy wrestling matches, of the 'grapple and pin to showcase strength' variety, but the Maxna specific twist is that these matches must be done in naturally formed pools of still water to be considered traditional, though artificial pools are used for training and in some in-clan competitions. For obvious reasons, this is a sport preferred by full-human men or the often physically superior witch-kin.

k1234567890y wrote:Next: How do your con-people, be they human beings or not, think about enjoyments(entertainments, luxuries, delicacies, etc.)? Are they more hedonistic or more stoic?

Maxna and Integrationist Mej can generally expect to have free time in the evenings, though the richer members of their societies are often the only ones benefiting from luxuries in any way.
Isolationist Mej tend to spend their meagre allotment of free time telling stories; where they live and how the live requires a lot of attention and invested effort to merely survive.

Next: What are some common phobias and folk-tale inspired fears of your con-peoples? For example, Isolationist Mej believe that wading through running water leeches away part of the soul, so tend to avoid crossing rivers or streams deeper than their knees without a bridge or boat, lest they sicken.

Not really a phobia, but Aroians tend not to show deep romantic affection, i.e. anything more than holding hands, in public. They are convinced that in the future, it will bring shame to their families for three generations.

And most Aroians are afraid of living in or being close to a building where a serious crime (torture, murder, using too much baking powder (seriously, you do NOT want to do that), ...) took place, or if someone convicted of a serious crime lived in that building.

What do your conpeople think about capital punishment?
In Keleia, punishment by death is quite common and practised throughout the kingdom.
In Keyali law, people have the right to be judged by a court of five Wisemen, who will establish the type and the proportion of the penalty.
In ancient times, the government of the villages was entrusted to the absolute power of the Wisemen (although they only had power on the village they came from). Today (as of the setting time of my stories), the Queen is considered to be, alone, a valid court, and she’s therefore capable of deciding the penalty for a crime according to her own will.
Usually, the capital punishment is not applied for murder (or any kind of war crime); In that case, exile is considered a much more terrible penalty.
The death penalty is used for crimes that go against the worship of the body: torture, rape, mutilation of any body part and driadicide (the murder of a dryad, a sacred priestess of the earth element).

Next: What does your conpeople think of the classical four/five elements?

Serena wrote:Next: What does your conpeople think of the classical four/five elements?

The speakers of Ba do not have an elemental theory as sophisticated as those of ancient Greece or China. Although they have minor deities for each, they would most likely regard earth, water and wind (rather than air) simply as things within the natural world rather than the basic material constituents of most other things. The very question "what is the world made of?" would sound strange to them (if pressed, they'd probably answer "lots of smaller things of godly origins" or something.)

Their stance toward both life and fire is a bit different, because they are seen as inextricably linked. Although different beings were started from different materials (for instance, humans from clay and birds from flowers and plants), they all were imbued with life/fire in the same way. If one of the classical elements is held in high regard, it's fire for sure. It inspired the form of the script, is kept and revered even in the poorest households, and is metaphorically used quite a bit in the language.

Next: If someone from your conpeople's "elite" was an rpg character, what skills would they have? And, perhaps more interestingly, what would they suck at?

Sights wrote:Next: If someone from your conpeople's "elite" was an rpg character, what skills would they have? And, perhaps more interestingly, what would they suck at?

Hard to say... I suspect the more recent Elder Scrolls games (and possibly the older ones that I haven't played) have a system that would work decently with my conworld.

All humans could potentially use some magic, and the witch kin (fey, demons, wraiths, witches, ghouls) all do, but the Mej are definitely combat focussed and tend to learn magical control solely for the purpose of having control; they don't tend to use magic much and have a prejudice against witch kin, despite having the potential to hold rather a lot of prana at once.
In Skyrim terms, they would get a mana boost in addition to warrior skill bonuses. They're also big, strong people, so boosts to Strength and/or Endurance?
'Elite' Mej tend to be gifted crafters and hunters. Isolationist Mej are soldiers all, and one's military rank is therefore always relevant.

Maxna are less gifted in terms of how much prana they can hold, but they actively cultivate magical potential. Additionally, they have a strict clan system with complex rules that govern their interactions, so I reckon that they would have bonuses to a mixture of magic and stealth skills, with possible boosts to Personality.
'Elite' Maxna would be nobles, and likely accomplished politicians, and/or powerful mages.

Next: What are your conculture's beliefs regarding astrology and/or astronomy?
Beyond that all of my concultures use the stars to navigate and probably use them to mark the passage of time, I haven't actually thought much about this question myself.

Most folks of the Mannish persuasion in the Eastlands of the World approach capital punishment with what can only be called a reserved sense of anticipation. Typically accompanied by sacks of half-rotten fruit with which to zing the condemned Penitents, or, if the show is not as good as expected, zing the executioners. Executions are always public and are nearly always easily visible to anyone who cares to attend. Especially prominent executions attain a kind of festival atmosphere -- which ought not be too surprising; after all, street theater of this sort always attracts wandering musicians, souvenir hawkers and hot-hound-sausage mongers.

But an execution is really just the culmination of a whole calendar of judicial festivities. After all, Justice itself is a pretty open and public affair, and the People take their appropriate part in all aspects of a Penitent's trial and punishment. The court room itself, in the City of Auntimoany, in all its baroque trappings and expensive carved wood panelling, is really just a kind of theatre. Sure, you don't get the priviledge of being judicially walled up or swing from a bronze chain unless first you come before the Emperor's justice. Generally speaking, the court is a place both terrifying and full of splendour. Captial cases are always public affairs and are always heard in the grandest of the city's court rooms. In modern Auntimoany, the court room looks something like a church inside: lots of wood panelling and wood benches for the audience to sit on. There's usually a gallery or two some twenty feet above the main floor. Allegories of Justice and Mercy figure prominently in the room's decor, even if actual Justice and Mercy only rarely make an appearance in the room. Towards the centre of the space is a railing that separates the audience from the place where the action happens. In a slightly lower level is a curved dais where the panels of Prosecutors and Advocates argue the case. Another level below them is a round cage-like structure where the condemned is stationed. Along a raised dais beyond this area sit the King's Learned Men, usually 12 doctors and philosophers who argue the merits of the case as laid out by the Advocate and the Prosecutor, and who "read" the attitude and expressions of the condemned and comment on his guilt or innocence based on his actions. High above this tableau and behind an ornate wooden desk sit the panel of three or seven judges. Somber of face and saying nothing during the trial, the chief, who sits in the middle, only strikes an ancient stone martell upon the thick wood of the desk. This signals the start of the trial, and later will signal the end. The space itself is generally quite dark: the prisoner can be seen quite clearly, as light pipes throw a harsh illumination upon his cage; the lawyers are also pretty well lit, though not so brightly. The King's Men sit in semidarkness and the judges can not be discerned at all, unless one of them leans forward and some part of his face catches the light.

During the trial, the bailiff will enter the chamber and bang his cudgel on the floor thrice and call the place into order. The panel of judges, all wearing scarlet red robes and pointed hats, process in from the back, and enter a small doorway near the front where they go up to the bench. Then come the King's Men, all wearing the various colours and robes that denote their speciality or school of philosophy. Then the Advocate and the Prosecutor, wearing black robes and tall horsehair wigs and long white collars. Usually, a single side drum taps a constant beat while all these folks enter. Once all the court are arrayed and settled, a pair of kettle drums strikes up a dirgeful tattoo. Then the condemned arrives to the jeers and hard crust throwing of the crowd. Led by two bailiffs, he is taken down into the cage and secured there. The first bailiff bangs his cudgel on the floor again and the clark reads out the charges and name of the condemned: "Hear all Men and Daine present! Stands accused in these Halls of Justice of capital murther, the heinous and brutal slaying of Widdow Middlewhite, formerly of Stonecutters Row and now awaiting justice in the City Morgue, her killer Wandulf the Butcherman, a blaowman of the same Stonecutters Row. Harken now and know that Justice shall fall upon the rightly accused!"

The usual order of business, once the martell is struck, is for the Prosecutor and Advocate to state their cases, and each gets the right to pose Questions of the condemned criminal. Since Justice is a priviledge that many can not quite afford, the Advocate usually doesn't know a whole lot about the case and will try to sway the judges with flowery rhetoric and Questions that try to put the condemned person in as a good light as he may. The crowd, always looking for a good time at the expence of the man in the cage, rarely falls for it and continues by heckling the poor Advocate. They often cheer when the Prosecutor asks some cutting Question like "Soe, sir crippleshanks, what proof can thee offer their Honoures that you wasn't the one what done in poor Widdow Middlewhite?" The crowd all laugh, because they know the poor bastard in the cage has no more hope than a light frost in Hell's garden of being able to offer any kind of proof that the judges would accept in his defence. They also like the running commentary and cutting wit provided by the King's Men who also have no actual knowledge of the case, but feel quite free to comment on the condemned man's obvious mental, moral, physical or attitudinal deficits. If he is a Daine, it goes all the worse for them -- their innate honesty and fundamental ignorance of human injustice always get the crowd howling.

Needless to say, if you haven't hired a good lawyer and if you haven't brought in your proof and thus can't prove your innocence, you have little hope of winning the trial. The only hope is throw yourself on the mercy of the Court, and as you can imagine, there is precious little of that to be meted out. If you're a member of a certain number of social classes, it's generally guilty unless proven innocent. Even if you're wealthy, there's no guarantee, but there is a greater likelihood that the trial will be fairer and such often result in a light punishment, such as exile, or perhaps in rare circumstances complete exoneration. All that remains, really is for the panel of judges to retire and deliberate on your fate. This you will know even before the chief judge speaks -- when the judges return from chambers, all wearing bronze masks now to symbolise impartiality, and the chief puts on his red cap, a low cylindrical affair with a slightly poufy octagonal bit on top, you just know what will happen next, and judging by the muted gasps and murmurs of satisfaction from the audience, they all know too. The stone martel will again bang hollowly on the ancient wood of the rostrum and the judge will say to you the only words you shall have heard the whole trial: "Wandalf the Butcherman of Stonecutters Row! Know now that Justice is being done upon your body for the crime of murther, for the Law mandates it, Justice requires it and our Sovereign accedes to it. Hear now o Man and cower before your fate, for the Law commands me hand to you the Dread Sentence: that you be henceforth braced and banded, be transported from this place to that place where your life shall be made forfeit. It is the sentence of his majesty's Justice that you be taken to the Halls of Amouraz (--undoubtedly a few gasps from the audience at the hearing of the name of that dreadful place, and as often as not, the knees of even the hardest criminal will buckle just a bit--) in the walls of which you shall be immured, where you shall hear naught but your own pitiful moan and where you shall see naught but the darkness engulfing you and where you shall wait until the Lord of Hunger consume your body and at last your mouldering body shall fall to the floor and your bones shall lie in the dust of it til the end of all worlds." Three bangs of the stone martel signify the end of sentencing, the judges all depart the bench and the bailiffs will whisk you away. However, those three terrible bangs of the martel don't signify the end of proceedings -- but rather a simple change of scene, for the theater that is Law and Justice is just setting the scene for Act II...

A terrible punishment, being immured, but not quite so satisfying for the Crowd! They want to see something happen, so it will often be the case that the Penitent is transported up town for a final dance upon the airs -- a graceful swing and a twist in the wind dangling from the Yardarm, the City Gallows. Here the Penitent is taken up a tall tower directly across from the Yardarm itself, known as Daniel Jones's Swing. This is a clever form of gibbet used by the courts of justice in Auntimoany to execute capital criminals in the most entertaining and instructive means possible. It consists largely of a tall swinging yardarm out in the Langhamdale courtyard overlooking the harbor at the old City Docks. The condemned is brought out and has to climb up several flights of steps to get to the platform, which is set some distance away from the high yardarm itself. Once there, Jhonam Caftund (the generic nom de wossname of the executioner) fits the strap around the condemned man's neck and attaches that to a well calculated length of sturdy rope. Down below, a hired fiddler takes up his viol and strikes up Dan Jones Hys Jigge, a slow and mournful a jygg as you'll ever want to dance to, that's for sure!, and the poor Penitent is then invited to step off and join the dance. From there, tis but one small step and into eternity. On a good day, the Pentient will gracefully swing down and take a couple nice turns around the swiveling yardarm -- assuming that Mr Caftund has properly calculated rope length, body weight and amount of spring in the yard arm. If all is planned well, the poor wretch should gracefully swing to and fro, his feet swooshing along perhaps a foot or no more than an ell above the spectators' heads, bobbing a little at either end of the swing in the characteristic jigging motion of the "dance upon the airs". If it doesn't quite go as planned, well, best stay out of the poor wretch's way, lest he kick you in the face on the down-swing. Or worse, splat right into the quick-food trolley. Uck.

Course, sometimes Mr Caftund is off just a tad. Then it falls to the waiting street sweepers to scrape up the bits from the cobbles. This will usually cause the gathered crowd to boo the executioner and unless he's got a back-up, he might end up with rotten fruits lobbed at him. Sometimes with bits of stone in em, you know, just to give em a bit of extra staying power.

Not many people survive a jig with old Daniel Jones. There was, back in the year of the Swatted Cat (1643), the instance where one Samwise Swithins was bidden to dance the jig of Death, but Mr Caftund failed to properly secure the rope to the yard arm. Swithins stepped off the platform all well and good, and made a beautiful arc, just barely knocking down an empty jug of cider placed on the yard as a test. But in stead of swinging back like a pendulum, the knot came undone and poor Mr Swithins kept rising up...and out...splashing down some twenty feet out in the harbour. The judges declared Swithins juridically dead, holding that no man should be executed for the same crime twice. They however had no issue whatsoever with executing him for some other crime, and, having fished him out of the harbor, sent him up the yard arm again that same evening, much to the pleasure of a discerning street populace!

There was also the strange case in Broken Kneecaps (1799) where Capt. Jack Halfshanks (formerly of the Eastern Star) was called to dance the jig of Death. In his case the rope snapped and he too went flying through the airs. Unhappily (for Halfshanks, anyway) the Eastern Star was docked in that part of the harbour and poor Halfshanks landed, impaling himself upon her bowsprit in a most humorously macabre position. The crowd was quite pleased by the performance and cheered for a full five minutes. Needless to say, Capt. Halfshanks was in no position to take a proper bow!

Of course, not all killings end with the Dread Sentence -- though the Penitent might wish it did! For example, in old Angera, a country neighboring Auntimoany, a few centuries back old King Crowell came up with some rather merry punishments indeed:

Ye Chiugeons All do quake who do harm to any Man, lest harm be done to thee! For His High Majesty has said this: the surgeon which kill a man during the operation shall cause the own hand of his choosing, that is his left or right, to be cut off by the agency of his remaining hand!

But just when you thought it couldn't get any worse: Woe betide the man that harm himself, lest further harm befall him! For His High Majesty has said this: i. the penalty for such a man as the one who has been the cause of a self mutilation by the left hand is for the other hand to be removed in a manner liable to cause much grinding of bones and great howls of pain. ii. however, the penalty for such a man as the one who has been the cause of a self mutilation by the right hand is for the other hand to be immersed in oil which shall be heated until that hand is right crispy, and then it shall be severed, and then the man shall be compelled to devour his own right hand.

Last edited by elemtilas on 02 Oct 2016 05:00, edited 1 time in total.

If we stuff the whole chicken back into the egg, will all our problems go away? --- Wandalf of Angera

Some questions
What alphabet, Latin, Cyrillic, Greek?
Greek for Bartalonians, they have used Latin with diacritics and Cyrillic with Cyrillic Extended-B.
Next questionWhat do your conpeople think of toys for children? What kinds do they have? Would they think toys with sound are enchanted with an evil spirit?

Birdlang wrote:Next: What do your conpeople think of toys for children? What kinds do they have? Would they think toys with sound are enchanted with an evil spirit?

Keyali people don't have lots of toys in general. Children (and adults) prefer games that are played without the use of any object. They might use a lal ("ball") and play a game called Hallelir, which is similar to Handball.

Would they think toys with sound are enchanted with an evil spirit?

Probably yes, but that wouldn't be so negatively viewed upon.

Next: What would your people think of football? I mean real football, not american football.

Birdlang wrote:What do your conpeople think of toys for children? What kinds do they have? Would they think toys with sound are enchanted with an evil spirit?

In Westmarche, Daine children certainly play with toys, and in fact it is a common tradition to give them such gifts at birth:

Apart from all the welcoming and naming rites (that occur after the birth of a child), gifts are generally given to recently born baby. This largely consists of toys. A rattle certainly; other toys, a blanket. Daine babies never lack for toys! The rattle is usually given at some time between six and nine months of age. Gifts are not generally given to younger babies as there is the greater probability that they will not survive the first six months. In Westmarche, this first gift is called the “ninemaths”. Favored toys include classics like dolls and soft toys, especially for the little ones; carved wooden toys: hoops, noisemakers, whistles and the like. Some have long baffled philosophers, like the wooden birds with outstretched wings and tail, as if they could fly...

Apparently, they do not associate noise making toys with evil spirits. If anything, noise makers ward off evil spirits, as is well known. This is one reason why so many folks hang wind chimes near their houses and gardens -- keep away the baddies and welcome in the music loving spirits!

Serena wrote:What would your people think of football? I mean real football, not american football.

If you mean "soccer", that's not played in the World. There are various games at ball that are played, however. The Daine of Morvallia play a kind of ballgame in a spacious stone court. The court is a longish rectangle with sloping edges and vertical walls. There are four goals: two metal hoops set vertically along the side walls above the slopes and two holes in the end walls. Weighted strings in the hoops determine whether the ball passed through or not. The court is longer than it is wide. The goals on the end walls lead to pipes that bring the ball down to a hopper near the floor. Above the slopes are alcoves in the side walls; players are not allowed to rest there, but this is where the entryways into the court are. The ball is made of a kind of rubber and may be kicked, punched, batted with the hand or struck with the knees, elbows, wings, shoulders or head. Mind you, striking the hard rubber ball with your head is none too smart -- that ball can really hurt! This is why many players wrap a leather pad round their heads. Jostling is allowed, but violent checking is not. Also allowed are ball blocking, stealing and redirection; but goal tending is not allowed.

Another Daine ballgame, played in the Eastlands, is played with a heavy leather covered cork ball called a puck and a wooden paddle called a caster. The object of the game to cast the ball from player to player, or roll it along the ground, in order to get it into a goal. The caster itself is reminiscent of a wewunio, which is a weapon used to hunt rabbit.

There are certainly other games at ball played in just about every place in the World: These games might be familiar as variants of dodgeball, rounders, la crosse, football and field ball. In Auntimoany, they play a kind of game that's halfway between cricket and jai alai: the caster throws the ball down to the ground in front of the punter, who tries to scoop it up, turn around once and punt it off into the outfield (preferably away from any opposing players); if he's able to do that, he can run to the wicket for a score of one-third and then try to run back to the home wicket again for a score of three-thirds. Meanwhile, the opposing outfielders try to catch the ball, make their turn around and cast it back towards the wicket-guard. If he catches it before the punter arrives, then the punter is "cast out" with a score of "three eggs" (.i. naught, the figure looking something like an oblong with a dot in the middle); if he catches it after the punter "runs his third", then he must make his own turn around and cast the ball to the home wicket guard, who will then try to throw the ball at the punter in order to "cast him out". But the punter's team has two guards of its own that try to run interference -- if the home wicket guard strikes one of these fellows with the ball, he is "cast out" in stead and the punter is penalised a third, and the ball goes into play again, for the caster now must try to scoop it up, make his turn and cast it back to the home wicket guard who will try to strike the punter again. If the punter makes it to the home wicket, he scores three thirds. Add to that the one third he scored for making the first wicket and another one third for the uncastout guardsman and his total score for the punt is "five thirds". A perfect score for a punt is, obviously, "six thirds".

There is another game, also played in Auntimoany, where the ball may only be kicked or thrown with the feet and the object is to put it through one of three basket hoops that're attached to a clockwork mechanism at either end of the court. So, sort of football meets basketball meets carnival duck shooting. Different points are scored depending on which basket the player makes and which position the player is actually playing. These balls are very light, but penalties can be earned by even accidentally touching the ball with hands, arms, wings or heads.

Next: What sorts and how many kinds of kijap -- cooking sauces -- do your folks cook with?

Last edited by elemtilas on 02 Oct 2016 05:01, edited 1 time in total.

If we stuff the whole chicken back into the egg, will all our problems go away? --- Wandalf of Angera

The early Ercunic peoples, including all sub-tribes, do not use a "sauce" (tomatoes did not exist in Europe at the time, and other kinds of vegetables weren't prepared in this way) as we think of it, but some food is served in a broth, especially if it's chicken broth. The modern Ercunic peoples eat general western European food, especially those of France, Germany and Italy.

The Athan use a liquid made of boiled tubers that is thickened with a type of "roux". It's called merokhi.

Next question: What kinds of weapons do your concultures use for dueling, if that sort of thing exists?

(My peoples use a type of short club, like a shillelagh, which was developed separately than the Irish tradition of bataireacht. It's called a maistaghal [mastʲaɣal] 'club of pain')

Very interesting question, thank you for asking it. In Devoine it depends on the region. In the northern and eastern areas we primarily fight with wooden sticks (with a length of about 4'11") in non-lethal dueling, and swords for lethal dueling (although I must point about that lethal dueling is forbidden. Obviously ), while in the southern and western parts we primarily use swords, even in non-lethal duels. Protective clothing is worn in both lethal and non-lethal duels, so just in case you're wondering how the hell people would survive a sword duel in the west and south.

What do your conpeople think about nuclear weapons? If nukes don't exist (yet) in your conworld: what would your people think about them?

The people of Naqil in Maliter (current tech level: wibbly-wobbly 1830s-ish) would be momentarily horrified before they realized that if they got those before everyone else, they would be unstoppable. This would very quickly turn into an enormous mess.

In my newest conworld, Kadam, there are nukes! They haven't been intentionally used against civilian targets yet, but there's been posing and posturing in the form of island testing, and one strike against a military base that promptly irradiated much of the surrounding farmland, so there's a bit of a nervous undercurrent going on about them.

In Unnamed Science Fiction Setting, nukes are obsolete. The big thing now is antimatter bombs.

Firebird766 wrote:How would your conpeople react to an extraterrestrial encounter?

Judging from the recent interactions in the Multiverse Inn, I think it'd be fair to say that folks from the World would probably not even notice that the visitors were in fact aliens. It takes a bit of explaining to get across the notion of those points of light in the sky being huge stars with planets of their own and people from there came a long way to visit. On the other hand, at least their first instinct isn't to shoot first and ask questions later!

As for one other recent questions: Daine will engage in duelling from time to time, either as an exciting pastime or as a means of settling a dispute sans arbitration in the usual ways. But duelling is also an extremely serious and ritualised activity. It's not just two boys scuffling in the dirt. That's terribly low brow. If you want to go this route, there are a number of goals that have to be met before weapons are ever crossed. For a proper duel, a challenge has to be made and accepted. For a challenge to be valid, the aggrieved and his stand-by as well as the accused and his stand-by must agree firstly that there is in fact an issue to be resolved. If no agreement can be reached, then no duel can be fought.

Then, both parties must meet to discuss the terms. Since the aggressor is seeking a fight, the accused has the right to choose the weapons and armor to be allowed. The aggressor may then choose an amenable time and the accused an amenable location. They both must agree upon the nature of the duel: sound drubbing, first blood, "crying uncle" or mortal combat.

Most duelling with weapons is conducted with one of three basic kinds of weapons. First is the long staff, which is simply a long staff of wood, about 6 feet or so, made entirely smooth and without sharp edges or bumps or spikes. Next is a shortish flexible weapon much like a sjambok. Last is a peculiar kind of duelling knife, which is basically a two foot long, rounded but slightly tapered stick of wood with a wooden guard at the very end of which is a tiny knapped stone or bronze blade. It's sharpened just enough to draw a few drops of blood without causing serious injury.

It is not at all uncommon for the two combatants to fight naked and without any kind of weapons. Duelling is rarely fatal, as that's not really the point, and when it is fatal, it's generally because both parties came to expecting a fight to the death. Duelling is not illegal, but neither are mortal combats encouraged. Usually, if the families discover that such a plan is in the works, they will seek to get the two parties to come before the arbitrators.

Last edited by elemtilas on 02 Oct 2016 05:01, edited 1 time in total.

If we stuff the whole chicken back into the egg, will all our problems go away? --- Wandalf of Angera

elemtilas wrote:Next: What sorts and how many kinds of kijap -- cooking sauces -- do your folks cook with?

In Sanmra, there would be many, I'm sure, but by far the most iconic is kunar, a word that technically means any kind of sauce, but typically refers to a very hot sauce made from a base of vinegar and chili peppers. Other ingredients can include garlic, onions, black pepper, cinnamon, a dash of sugar, etc. etc.--there's a million variations. The whole thing is fairly smooth, without big chunks of pepper or onion, and it's used in all sorts of dishes, from a dipping sauce for flatbread to jazzing up soup to a marinade.

Bristel wrote:Next question: What kinds of weapons do your concultures use for dueling, if that sort of thing exists?

The duelists get to decide (although, as with other aspects of a duel, a civil court must approve the choice). In this modern, enlightened age, duels are very rarely to the death, so they're frequently unarmed fights. The most common actual weapon would be knives/short daggers. Swords are quite uncommon these days; young people just don't learn how to use them anymore. Guns are seen as too dangerous for a not-to-the-death duel, and only rarely would be selected or approved.

Segano wrote:What do your conpeople think about nuclear weapons? If nukes don't exist (yet) in your conworld: what would your people think about them?

Given their precarious position of being wildly outnumbered by humans, the dalar (regardless of nation) take a very pragmatic approach to war--virtually anything is acceptable if it's what you need to do to survive. They don't think weapons of mass destruction should be used lightly or wantonly, but most of them have no problem with them being used so long as the ramifications are thought through beforehand. (that being said, no dalar nation has nukes, although occasionally the topic comes up in both Sanmra and Tuanmali. The general opinion is that having (or trying to develop) nukes runs the risk of attracting unwanted attention.)

Firebird766 wrote:How would your conpeople react to an extraterrestrial encounter?

In much the same way humans would, I think. You might say, well, the dalar aren't human, so why would they be surprised that there's other nonhumans out there? But let's be honest: the dalar are human, or pretty close to it. Dalar and humans have common ancestry. So there's a big difference between, "oh, there's another kind of human out there that just doesn't like to call itself human" and "oh, there's another sentient species out there that has nothing to do with humanity at all."

Alynnidalar wrote:What methods of transportation are available to your conpeople?

In the Land That Was Before, which contains the Broken Empire, the Empire Of Many Names, and Zastruga, transport is by foot, wing (if you're lucky enough to have them), or by horse. There are some carts, but the Folk don't use iron. Iron burns them. And iron-less carts are loud and a general pain in the butt, according to my Googling.

Primitive trains have just recently been developed Maliter, specifically in Naqil and Kyskin, but haven't spread very far and because of the famine in Kyskin, which is causing widespread effects throughout the region, they're not going to progress much past primitive any time soon.
Other than that, people traveling by sea opt for buying passage on a sailing tradeship, and people traveling by land are restricted to walking or llama (or, in the middle continent, banteng) driven carts- while there are very early bicycles, they're expensive, heavy, and won't be consiered practical transport until several improvements are made.
There are no horses on the planet.

Kadam has pretty much all modern conveniences and transport, though elves need to use variants that have adaptations that take their tail into account. Some cars have a removable foam insert in the seats that can be taken out to give them someplace to comfortably put them, and many bicycles come with a stand to help keep it away from the spokes.

Unnamed Science Fiction Setting has spaceships, natch, but the production of FTL engines is a closely-held secret so how many functional ones you get is based on how good your relationship is with the Jarans. Humans have ten. Total. They're not very happy about that.
Ground transport hasn't gone through many changes except in terms of speed and efficiency, because hey guess what antigravity is one of those things that only one dude has. That dude is the Geryons, and they're off doing their own thing ignoring everyone else.

The Mijist deities are basically the sun and the moon, with the stars being "lesser gods". The creation myth basically says that in the beginning there was the sun and the moon, who fell in love but couldn't touch cause they'd accidentally kill each other (the sun burning the moon, the moon freezing the sun). They made the world as kind of like their baby, and now revolve around the world on opposite sides, taking turns giving warmth and coldness to each side of the world. The not touching part is important here.

An eclipse in ancient times basically meant that somehow (it's never said how) the sun and the moon were too close to each other and they began to hurt each other. It was almost seen as the end of the world, since without them they'd die. There's a Mijist prophecy predicting the end of the world, when the sun and moon finally give in to their temptation and come together, killing each other and leaving the world to die soon after. Whenever an eclipse happened, there were mixed reactions. Some just accepted their fate, others frantically tried to complete their lives, and the most devout would make a desperate prayer to prevent the supposed apocalypse. Based on the fact that no eclipse had resulted in the death of the world yet, the devout believed that past prayers had saved the world time and time again.

But as time passed, most Mijist sects quickly reinterpreted eclipses as displays of the gods' love and affection, and a beautiful sight to behold. Even in modern Kauzia, where theistic Mijism has become much less popular, eclipses are still seen as an almost sacred event, and the day after an eclipse is often made into a temporary holiday.

Here are a couple broad questions, partly because I couldn't think of anything specific:How does magic work in your conworld? OR How does technology work in your conworld?

Sḿtuval wrote:How does magic work in your conworld? OR How does technology work in your conworld?

My conworlds basically follow realistic physics, although there are some seemingly fantasy beings like mermaids(Long-longs are not counted as fantasy beings by me), and there are wormhole-based FTL travels among advanced civilizations, and I try to give seemingly plausible explanations to them...

Next:

How do communities of your conpeoples think of linguistic purism? i.e. how do they think of foreign influences on their languages?

Last edited by k1234567890y on 30 Sep 2016 20:39, edited 1 time in total.

k1234567890y wrote:How do communities your conpeoples think of linguistic purism? i.e. how do they think of foreign influences on their languages?

Naqil is pretty unhappy about, since the foreign influence in their case pretty much erased their native languages. There's a big push to try to bring them back, and in the meantime some remaining scraps of the Tlatol languages have drifted into Muilo as loanwords.

Muisa in turn is pretty unhappy about Naqin influence on Muilo. They mispronounce everything! And change words! It's awful!

Kyskin is pretty lax about Akys, though. Change is just something that languages do, so what does it matter if the change is foreign-borne?

Jor was neutral at first, but they've started getting defensive about their own language recently because Naqil has been such a nuisance in trying to get them to speak Muilo instead.

The folk of Great Sea down in the Uttermost Deeps of the World have no concept of "space". For long time, all such speculation of such things has been deemed unorthodox and a danger to all living Beings.

But there will always be rebels and mavericks.

The first thing Ashyat perceives, after her long swim up the core plume, when she leaps up out of the volcano is "tiny pinpoints of ankanic radiance amid a diffuse background energy" -- the first time in probably something like six or seven billion years that any one of her kind has ever perceived the radiance of a distant star. And then, she perceives the faint radiance of "tiny and insignificant — living beings!? — moving upon the dead surface" and finally "a stupendous radiance of ankanic fire directly above the Edge! The roar of her winds could be heard above the currents of energies of the universe below; her radiance encompassed the entire universe and expanded outward into an even greater universe beyond all comprehension."

She is also the first of her kind in many ages to greet the rising Sun, the one who is mother of Fireheart.

She is overwhelmed by "space" and the Beings in it and becomes "Sun-touched" for some time, then fundamentally changed in worldview.

Ebon wrote:Do your conpeople believe in supernatural beings other than deities? Who and what are they and how do they relate to the conpeople? If not, what do they think of beliefs like that?

In The World, Men and Dharghs in particular live such short lifetimes and their races are very forgetful even from one generation to the next. They find it very easy to believe in all manner bogeys, and supernatural beings, including deities of their own making. If there's a disease they fall prey to or a calamity they experience or a joy they anticipate, you can rest assured they've come up with a wuggard of intestinal worms or a brommie of boils or an angel of death and taxes (among the Rumelians, this would be Eyeressea; among the Avantimanni, Birmand) or a putto of joy and a goddess of ecstasy.

They believe that "praying" to these entities or wearing charms dedicated to them or performing certain tapasyandum or spiritual actions will in some way influence these minor deities and spirits to nudge the course of All That Is in their favour.

Half the time, they can't even see the entirely natural "supernatural" beings that do inhabit the world around them! Elves - shudder - they have no clue; waterfolk, actual angels, Powers. Heck, they don't even recognise their own Creator when he comes to visit!

Daine and Teyor on the other hand believe in no "supernatural" beings (as I believe you are using the term here). The simple reason is "why should they believe in what is patently obvious?" No one can see gravity or djuus (the Spirits of Elektra City) -- yet they exist and no one believes in them. Most Daine and all Teyor will aver the same: those who can see and interact with Elves (and recognise them for the vile monsters they are) or flower fairies or angels or the mighty Powers that shaped the world, what reason is there to "believe" in them? Do we "believe" in our own mothers or sisters? Why make up false deities and fairies when there are plenty of real ones all around!

Next, a question from the Daine perspective: How do your folks handle the conflict between offering hospitality sex to a visitor and the tabu against mating with one of the Unwinged, who happens to be your guest?

Last edited by elemtilas on 02 Oct 2016 05:01, edited 1 time in total.

If we stuff the whole chicken back into the egg, will all our problems go away? --- Wandalf of Angera